


Puella Magi Piano Quintet

by orphan_account



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-03
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 10:40:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4260216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Youth is a tumultuous adventure. In a world without incubators or magical girls, Kaname Madoka returns after three years abroad and forms a piano quintet at her school with the help of her best friend, Miki Sayaka. A series of vignettes out of chronological order about five girls making do with their musical gifts and rocky friendships.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! so I haven't tagged this as an everyone lives AU or a post-rebellion story, mostly because I haven't decided. I'll keep Homura's characterization ambiguous until I do- sorry about that! It shouldn't make much of a difference. For now. 
> 
> It's also out of chronological order because I honestly have no idea what I'm doing. This entire headcanon just spiralled out of one little short story I wrote as a writing exercise. After a certain point, maybe 3-4 stories, it'll be a complete set of works until I think of more, as I didn't really plan much of the events out.
> 
> So, here's my AU of everyone being relatively happy and being in a string and piano quintet, not a fighting quintet. Enjoy!

“Why not, Sayaka-chan?”

 Sayaka tries not to give in to Madoka’s pout. The younger girl doesn’t throw tantrums much, nor is she very stubborn; but when Madoka puts her mind to it, she uses every emotional weapon in her arsenal. It’s not fair, really, she’s got this cute little face that gets her mistaken for a gradeschooler sometimes, complete with big teary eyes and cheeks that never lost their baby fat during her three years abroad.

 “Because!” Sayaka says, crossing her arms. “She’s...”

 “A demon?” Madoka counters. “You know that’s ridiculous. When are you going to let that go? You don’t even know her.”

 “Well, neither do you!” she huffs, flinching as the wind blows her bangs into her eyes. Maybe they shouldn’t be having an argument on the roof, but it’s better than hashing it out in the classroom in front of everybody.

 Madoka’s pout intensifies. Sayaka crams her guilt back down her throat.

 “I know her well enough to know that she’s a really nice girl and a great viola player. Come on, with Kyouko-chan and Homura-chan, we’ll be a proper string quartet!”

 Learning that Kyouko can play the cello was honestly a surprise. A pleasant surprise, but one that got her yelled at by Kyouko for making baseless assumptions.

 “We were only supposed to be a violin duet, you and me. You know, in celebration of our reunion?”

 Madoka holds her hands daintily behind her back and scuffs her shoe against the floor light, and Sayaka knows something is coming.

 “You had your crush join us, why can’t I?”

 Check and mate. When did she learn to be so compelling in arguments? Maybe it’s that Sayaka really is full of crap. Something about Akemi Homura bothers her, and the fact that her best friend became so attached to the quiet recluse so soon after returning home bothers her even more.

 Sayaka sighs, letting her arms fall. “Okay, okay, you got me there, she can be part of the group.” She limply lets herself be tackled into a hug.

 “Thank you, Sayaka-chan!”

 “Madoka...” She swings her arms around the shorter girl, squeezing hard. “When did you learn to use your womanly wiles?”

 “Wh-what are you talking about?” Madoka squeals, “Sayaka-chan, don’t!” she says, as Sayaka begins her tickle assault.

 “My cute Madoka, all grown up now! Well, I’m not ready to give you up yet!”

 “Sayaka-chan, stop!” Madoka giggles, ineffectually trying to wrestle out of her friend’s grip. She laughs until she cries, and then a little more. She laughs until her stomach gets sore well into the next period, as any middle-schooler would.

 

 


	2. First practice

“So, uh, welcome to Mitakihara Piano Quintet’s first practice session!” Madoka manages to say, and Kyouko tries not to laugh at the tiny girl’s nervous stammer. It’s cruel to say that she’s bored or anything, but she’s not exactly thrilled to be here. She was only riled into by Sayaka suggesting that she wouldn’t know much about classical music.

 She doesn’t really know that much, true. Classical music is, let’s face it, kind of boring. It’s kind of infuriating to hear, though, some kid you’re trying to get along with making some assumptions about who you are.

 Kyouko presses her fingers against the fretboard of the cello experimentally. It’s been a while since she’s last played- three years to be exact. After her father had been committed to the mental hospital and she and Momo had been put into foster care, it was a little hard to keep up with the lessons, to say the least. She draws her bow against the strings lightly, and the sound brings back memories. It’s a bit of a juxtaposition, paradox- her hands remember the motions, the music, the dance, but it’s also her hands that’s lost the calluses and strength to properly hold the note down.

 Eh, she’ll make do.

 “Kyouko,” Sayaka admonishes. “Can you pay attention?”

 She shrugs. “Can’t we get to practicing already? I don’t have all day.”

 It’s kind of fun to see Sayaka bristle.

 “Sakura-san, it is important to get introductions in order,” Mami says, calmly as always.

 Tomoe Mami is a surprise to see. Kyouko hasn’t seen her in a while since Mami had become fifteen and moved out into her own apartment, but they were in the same group home for foster kids they couldn’t place. Sometime before their first practice, Akemi had the brilliant idea to officiate the quintet into a club that counts for extracurricular credits on their transcripts. They only need a teacher and a student council member to sign off as chaperones, which ended up being easy enough. Mami volunteered to sign off, and Madoka immediately invited her to join when she found that Mami played the piano beautifully.

That kid is too trusting, honestly. Not that it’s a problem- it’s kind of nice to see Mami again, though they were never that close. It’s always nice to see a familiar face in an unfamiliar city.

“We should decide who the leader is,” Sayaka prompts.

“I figured it would be Mami-sempai.”

Mami shakes her head. “It’s a conflict of interest for a student council member to sign off on a club that they’re leading. How about you, Miki-san? It was your idea after all.”

“Eh, me?” She balks, pointing at herself. “I’m not really leader material…”

“The senior violin is usually the leader of a quartet. Since Tomoe-sempai is ineligible, you would be the logical choice.”

Akemi’s monotone voice is quite off-putting, Kyouko would give Sayaka that much. She’s never going to figure out why she has such a huge grudge against the quiet girl, though.

“We don’t really have to have a leader, do we?” Sayaka says awkwardly, smiling. “It’s only a small club after all.”

“We will have to register some details if we were ever to enter in a competition or a festival,” Mami reminds them.

A competition or a festival? Kyouko isn’t sure she’s that committed. She only joined to (impress) piss off Sayaka, after all.

“We can cross that bridge when we get there,” Madoka interjects, smiling placatingly. “Why don’t we just look at our first piece today and see how we pace compared to each other?”

Finally, Kyouko tries not to sigh aloud. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the point where I gave up on present tense, unfortunately. 
> 
> With the automated desks, I thought it would be a plausible excuse. It sounds pretty bad though, orz. I'm sure Sayaka, without the added edge from becoming a magical girl, wouldn't just rip into Kyouko, but I'm notoriously bad at characterization, what can I say.

Madoka had never seen Sayaka get into a physical fight.

It wasn’t that she’d been away for long and missed an important part of Sayaka’s personality development or anything-- three years apart and Sayaka had become funnier, more confident, and maybe a bit pushier with physical boundaries, but all in good fun. She’d never been a violent person.

It had started when they were talking in the classroom during recess; it had been only a week or so since Madoka had come back from abroad, and the two talked almost constantly. There never seemed to be enough catching up. Sayaka had been one of the things she’d missed the most while in America.

“You learned to play the violin?” Madoka asked.

“Yeah,” Sayaka laughed nervously, “I wasn’t really that interested, but you kind of have to know to play the instrument you’re writing music for.”

“You’re a composer too? That’s amazing!” Madoka enthused. “I didn’t know you were so into classical music, Sayaka-chan.”

“I wouldn’t call myself a composer, exactly. I just kind of dabble in it because Kyosuke…” Sayaka trailed off, blushing, and Madoka grinned as she put it together in her head.

“You learned how to compose so you could write for Kamijou-kun? That’s so sweet,” she smiled, making sure not to make Sayaka feel embarrassed or belittled.

For nothing, apparently. Sakura Kyouko, the student who had transferred in before her, spoke up from a couple desks away.

“That’s so pathetic.”

Sayaka bristled. “Who asked you?”

“I’m just saying,” Kyouko shrugged, feet up on her desk and expression nonchalant. “All that dedication in learning a new instrument, and for what? It’s not he’s gonna fall in love with you for sure just because you wrote a song for him.”

Madoka could see Sayaka’s rage metre rising rapidly.

“I didn’t do it so that he’d like me, I did it because--” she looked around swiftly to make sure no one else was listening in-- “because I care about him!” she seethed.

Kyouko put her feet down and leaned towards them, smirking. “That’s what I’m saying is pathetic. Why work so hard for something that’s not gonna benefit you anyway?”

“Maybe I’m not a self-absorbed prick like you.”

That hit a nerve. Madoka could feel her anxiety going haywire as Kyouko growled.

“I’m just not as excruciatingly naive as you are. You pretend you’re doing something for him because you’re oh-so-sweet, when what you really want is him to pay attention to you. It pisses me off. Are you gonna keep up that act when he doesn’t end up liking you?”

Sayaka stood up and clenched her hands into fists, despite Madoka’s soft-spoken pleas for her to calm down. A few people were looking over at them now.

“What did you say?”

Kyouko smiled then, baring her fangs. “How about I do you a favour and go break all his limbs right now? Then he’ll always need you to take care of him. He’ll have no choice but to fall in love with--”

Madoka almost shrieked as Sayaka launched herself at Kyouko, fists raised. The classroom erupted in a cacophony of yells and frantic murmuring, everyone staring at the fighting duo now; Sayaka with a face fully flushed with rage, and Kyouko with a manic grin.

She stepped forward to try and break them up, but had barely gotten her hands on Sayaka’s shoulders when a stray elbow swung towards her face. Firm hands pulled her out of the way, and she found her back pressed to the chest of Akemi Homura.

Oh, butts, she thought as her solar plexus decided to do a few flipkicks for fun. Homura’s hair fluttered in her face a little, due to the length. Madoka could smell her lavender shampoo. Her mysterious classmate softened her hold and looked down at her, mouth drawn in a sympathetic line.

“It’s useless to try and stop them now.”

Madoka tried not to be distracted by Homura’s susurrous, commanding voice so close to her face. “But they’re going to hurt each other…”

“They already have. There’s no point getting drawn into it.”

“But…” Madoka looked back at the two. The desk in that area had folded automatically upon impact, and Kyouko now had Sayaka on her back, holding her down with a clawing hand in her face, while Sayaka had a fistful of red hair in one hand and the nape of Kyouko’s uniform in the other.

She felt hands leave her arms and turned to see Homura approaching the fight.

“Homura-chan, don’t--”

The girl deftly pulled the two apart, just in time for Mr. Yamada to walk in for his lecture. No one had heard the bell due to the fight.

“What’s going on here?” He scowled at the scene of students standing in a circle around two bruised and scratched girls on the floor and one Akemi Homura standing in the middle of it.

Silence for a moment.

“There was a sudden violent malfunction with Sakura Kyouko’s desk, sir,” Homura said. “It took us all by surprise.”

Mr. Yamada squinted as everyone tried not to show their relief too palpably. “Was anyone seriously injured?”

“Just Sakura and Miki were caught up in it,” she answered, as she helped up the two glowering girls. “May I take them to the nurse’s office?”

Mr. Yamada didn’t seem entirely convinced, but too tired to make a fuss about it. He wearily waved an affirmative at her and began setting up the board.

“Everyone sit down then, if the commotion is over,” he ordered passive-aggressively. Homura all but yanked the two girls by the elbow towards the exit, and judging from the grimaces on both their faces, it wasn’t a soft grip either.

Madoka hesitated before sitting down, wondering if she should go with them.

“Yes, Kaname-kun?” Mr. Yamada probed, “Do you have something to announce as well?”

“Uhm…” She couldn’t think of an excuse. She looked outside at Homura dragging the girls away, making eye contact when the taller girl stopped briefly.

Homura didn’t quite smile-- Madoka wasn’t sure if she had smiled more than once since the time that they’d met-- but the line of her mouth softened, and her brows rose slightly, empathetically, and Madoka found herself sitting back down.

“Nothing, sensei.”

Mr. Yamada continued with his lecture. What was it about Akemi Homura, Madoka wondered, that so thoroughly confused her and made her heart stomp in her chest? Akemi Homura had glared at her when they first met. Akemi Homura was always there when she tripped up or needed help. Akemi Homura never spoke to her for more than a few words at a time and never smiled. Akemi Homura broke up a fight just because it worried her.

Akemi Homura scared her. But Akemi Homura was also the person who did everything in her power to make Madoka feel comfortable, quietly but never wearily, and never asked for anything in return.

What did Kaname Madoka ever do in her short life to deserve a person like that?

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first one that I wrote, the one that started the AU.

“Here you go, Mami-san.”

The blonde girl jumped slightly at the sheet music thrust into her hands.

“Miki-san,” she smiled, taking the papers. “Thank you. I wasn’t expecting you to finish so soon, what with…”

Mami looked over Sayaka’s lackluster pout, slumped posture, and the dark lines under her eyes, trying to mince her words into a gentler approach.

“How you’ve been feeling lately,” she settled for with a sympathetic smile. “Kaname-san tells me you’ve been having composer’s block.”

“Yeah,” Sayaka sighed, hanging her head. “Sorry about that.”

Mami shook her head. “It’s no trouble. I wouldn’t have been able to come to practice often over the summer.” She placed her bag on the ground to open the space on the bench beside her. “Would you like to sit?”

“Thanks,” Sayaka mumbled, tossing herself onto the seat. “You’ve got a part-time job at the bakery, huh?”

Mami nodded, looking off to where Kyouko was teaching Madoka how to play lacrosse on the grass, while Homura dutifully played goalie. Sayaka tapped her shoes lightly on the park’s cobblestone path, wedging the edge of her sole in a slight chip between two stones.

“Looks like I’m gonna be somewhat lonely this summer. Madoka and Homura are going going camping, and Kyouko…”

Trouble in paradise? Mami wanted to tease. She refrained.

“Did something happen between you two?”

“Kind of, not really?” Sayaka shrugged. “She’s mad and I’m not sure how to fix it.”

Madoka finally managed to stick a pass and cheered, falling over into the field from Kyouko’s enthusiastic tackle-hug. Homura’s angry facial tick wasn’t visible from the distance, but Mami could imagine it from the way the goalie stood up straight and passively let her arms fall to her sides.

“It’s hard to imagine Sakura-san being seriously mad at you.”

“Ha, you’d be surprised. That girl can hold a grudge.”

Mami smiled and watched the girl in question playfully push Madoka into Homura’s arms.

“I know.”

“Oh.” Sayaka bunched up in embarrassment. “I forgot that you’ve known her for much longer. Sorry.”

Mami smiled at her. “It’s nothing to be sorry for.”

Sayaka peered at her sheepishly over her shoulder.

“I guess you’d know a lot about Kyouko, huh?”

Kyouko guided Madoka’s arms through a shot, mouth moving in earnest explanation. Mami shrugged.

“I know that she hasn’t been quite as happy as she is with you in a long time.”

Not since Momo had been adopted without her, to be specific, but Mami didn’t feel like dampening the mood too much.

Sayaka sighed and flopped back, head hitting the back of the bench. The shadow of a cloud passed over her face slowly.

“Is this about Kamijou-kun?”

Sayaka groaned. “Not the way you think. Hitomi told me he wrote a song for her, and I dunno. I’m over him, but what with why I learned violin in the first place…” She grimaced. “I just feel kind of, gross, emotionally.”

“Sakura-san hasn’t been faulting you for that, has she?”

“She never has before, I don’t know what’s wrong,” she sighed, head lolling forwards onto her chest. “She was always so understanding about Kyosuke, and then now…”

Kyouko threw her head back in laughter as Madoka flailed and pouted about something. Mami could almost hear the petulant ‘Homura-chan’ over the breeze.

“She told me that she understands if I still feel weird about Kyosuke. That she knows feelings are complicated,” Sayaka groaned, watching the trio play. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Well. You have to admit, you’ve been a little distant lately.”

Sayaka grumbled. “I just need my own space sometimes, that’s all. It’s not like I’m giving her the cold shoulder or avoiding her or anything.”

“Have you told her that?”

Silence. Oh dear.

“Miki-san, considering that it’s about Kamijou-san, don’t you think you should be more communicative?”

“But she knows I get like this sometimes. I’m not still into him, I’m just upset.”

“And I’m sure she’d understand if you reassured her of that. As it stands now, with you being distant over Kamijou-san, you may have given her the impression that you’re…”

Mami tried to be gentler.

“Having second thoughts.”

Sayaka lurched forward, spluttering.

“What?”

Mami tried not to sigh or laugh as red slowly but vibrantly drained into Sayaka’s face.

“I would never--” her voice cracked a little. “Kyouko is-- Kyouko knows I’d never!”

Mami smiled ruefully. “She knows, but I’m not sure she feels completely secure. Relationships are ongoing works-- you can’t just expect someone to always feel loved if you’ve only said it once.”

Sayaka looked slowly at her lap, then at Kyouko across the grass. Her hands gripped the edge of the bench determinedly.

“Thank you, Mami-san,” Sayaka said, flashing a bright smile. “You really are a perfect sempai.”

“Far from it,” Mami mumbled to no one as Sayaka bounded down the slope and tackled herself into a bewildered Kyouko’s arms. She laughed as Kyouko’s arms flailed, crumpling her face in pain from the death grip.

Mami watched from across the field as Sayaka finally let go and pressed a firm kiss to a flustered Kyouko, ending the small misunderstanding. She saw Madoka’s laughter bubble down to a quiet smile and shy glances at a bored and oblivious Homura. Mami wondered when(not if) their romantic misunderstanding would arise.

Someone becoming a fifth wheel was an eventuality in any quintet, she supposed. She tried not to resent it too much, being the odd one out, the one going to highschool alone after this year-- but how could she help it, really? She’d had her fair share of loneliness and then some. She’d grown sick of it.

But as she watched the younger members of the quintet pack up the lacrosse equipment, she felt a bittersweet sort of contentment. It wasn’t their fault after all, and their feelings for her would never diminish-- the quintet would always be with her, with all their faults and mistakes, but always with love for their sempai.

And when she didn’t have the strength for that, she would be someone else’s Mami, a different Mami. Perhaps it was duplicitous to have multiple selves for multiple audiences, to feign strength and wisdom for the quintet and show her selfishness and weakness for another.

Perhaps, she didn’t care.

She looked down at the sheet music still in her lap-- Parmeggiano Reggiano, it read, a rather cute homage of a title from Sayaka for the trumpet and piano duet Mami had asked her for.

Mami smiled and carefully tucked it into her bag, standing up as the four reached her with banter and smiles.

Later that afternoon, Mami opened her apartment door to the sound of a soft melody. Nagisa sat at the coffee table, practicing diligently on her silver trumpet, sheet music scattered on the glass. The young girl grinned around her mouthpiece at Mami’s entrance, baby cheeks dimpling around her mouthpiece as the melody rolled to a stop.

“Mami!” she said, trumpet plopping into her lap.

“Hello, Bébé,” Mami smiled, closing the door behind her and pushing off her shoes. She giggled as Nagisa plodded across the floor to give her a hug. “How was your day?”

“Pretty good,” the girl murmured against Mami’s dress. “How was yours?”

“Pretty good,” she mirrored, smiling down at Nagisa’s grin. “I’m glad I got to see Kaname-san and the others before I get too busy this summer.” Nagisa released her and she went to set her bag down on the couch. “Were you practicing all day?”

Nagisa shook her head, silver hair bouncing. “Yuma-san came by earlier so we ventured out for a walk. I only started a little while ago.”

“Oh, don’t let me interrupt, then.”

Nagisa made a face. “But you just got home. Can’t we hang out?” she asked petulantly as she followed Mami into the kitchen.

The older girl smiled, filling the kettle for tea.

“You have to practice diligently if you want to join the middle school band next year, you know.”

“I know,” Nagisa said with her chin on the countertop. “But I like spending time with Mami much more than trumpet practice.”

Some would consider it a little pathetic that this small, eloquent creature could make Mami feel so important and needed.

“How about we do a bit of both?” she smiled, reaching for the mugs. “Miki-san gave me the duet I asked for. Would you like to learn it with me?”

Nagisa nodded enthusiastically. “Of course!”

“Then could you plug in my keyboard while I finish making tea, please?”

Mami smiled as she watched the girl scamper off happily.


End file.
